VIEW FROM THE OLIVE BRANCH

It’s really raining. One hour until my train, so I’ve decided to dive into the Olive Branch cafe opposite Oxford Railway station. It’s warmer, quieter, and the tea is nicer. Plus I’ve found a way to charge up my phone for the journey home.

It’s a good moment to reflect on the last couple of days in this city.  And the Sales Kick Off at the Leonardo. 

I think, on balance, I should not have come. I definitely thought it last night when I realised that the rest of the team had gone to dinner without me. 

I was one minute late getting to the lobby, so I waited.

After a while I started to realise that the chances of 11 people and 3 separate taxis being simultaneously more than 10 minutes late was so low that it couldn’t have happened, and that there had been only one other explanation.

It turns out that they all thought I was in the other taxi. Not a nice feeling though, being left behind. For a while I thought I would quite happily have just stayed at the hotel after all. It wouldn’t have done though. I ordered a cab and eventually went to meet them all at Gusto.

I just don’t think I belong in that crowd. But then… which crowd do I belong to? Sometimes I just don’t know. There was little I could contribute this week too. Much wasn’t relevant, or if it was, tough to absorb. It didn’t help that last night was so boiling hot, I failed to sleep before the hour ticked beyond a 2. When I opened my eyes, alive to the darkness and fully awake, I noticed it was just gone 4am. Now that I’m slumping into my tea at the Olive Branch, I can see how startling that maths looks.

Meanwhile, needing to be there meant that I couldn’t be at home for Sammy, and she really needed me. Just as our pizzas came out at Gusto, she rang, and in a way that I knew was sort of urgent. The quiet, late, antisocial extra at the table had to disappear and find a quiet corner. I was anxious. It didn’t make anything easier.

 

The cafe is filling up now. It will soon be time for me to splash through the glinting puddles, clutching my hood over my head and my sopping bag over my shoulders. I think my tea’s gone cold too.

I actually can’t wait to get home.